Curt Connors oneshots
by EllaLovesMusicc
Summary: Collection of Curt Connors/Lizard oneshots, either movie-verse or comic book-verse or some weird mixture. Rated T because of me not knowing what to rate this. Please review if you liked (or didn't like) one/more of my oneshots. (:
1. Chapter 1

The first thing he noticed when he woke up was that his head hurt. He searched for his glasses and once again realised where he was and why he couldn't find them. Without his glasses he could barely make out the shapes in the cell; or was it because of the darkness? He didn't know, and since he wasn't going to get his glasses, he would never find out. Neither was it on the long list of his worries.

He laid down again. There was simply no point in getting up. He didn't know what time it was. There was no window, not one ray of sunlight connecting him to the outside world. He didn't know if he had slept for two hours or for twelve, and it didn't matter. There was nothing to wake up to, and he wished he could sleep for years. Sleep until it was over. Sometimes he caught himself wishing he would never wake up, but then he thought of Billy. Of Martha. They were the only reason he managed to get some kind of grip on himself. They were his personal little ray of sunlight, even if he didn't get to see them for another few years. Even if they wouldn't want him anymore. That was one of the things on his list. One of the things that kept eating him away. They had no reason to care about him anymore. He had destroyed his own life, and he wouldn't be surprised if he had managed to destroy theirs in the process. He didn't want to think about what Billy's friends would say about it, Martha's colleagues. He didn't want to think about how they were looked upon because of what he did - so naturally it was one of the things he spent his days thinking about.

Occasionally Peter crossed his mind. Gwen. Sometimes both. He hoped they were okay. He hoped they would be okay together. Sometimes he was certain they were out there somewhere, happy. Once it managed to make him smile.

He worried about Oscorp too. He worried about what they would do with the formula, about what they might already be doing. He hadn't known its power when he handed it over (_when it was stolen from you_, a voice inside him whispered), but he knew now. He just hoped they would realise that, not having to learn the hard way.

Sighing, he rolled over to face the wall. There was nothing he could do, nothing he could say to influence anything happening outside the stone walls of his cell. It didn't make any sense to worry. It didn't make any sense to stress over every single detail of the events of the past, and how they would possibly influence the future. Yet he did.

_It's because you're one of them_, the voice inside him spoke again. _One of the mammals. Weak._

_That's right_, he smiled to himself. _It's because I'm human. And that's not my weakness. __It's the only thing that makes me strong._


	2. Chapter 2

He turned around, but the only thing there to face was another cold wall. He knew that if he would get up and touch that wall, it would feel just the same as the wall he was turning his back on right now. He could nearly sense the cold stone as he shivered. He felt cold. Even colder than the stones he was not going to touch. He felt frozen inside, as if his life had been stopped when the beast inside him had taken over. Perhaps it had. It certainly had.

Billy. Martha. Every time he tried to stop thinking about them his heart froze a little more. That's why he kept thinking about him. Thinking about the only people in this world who could keep him warm, for as much as it was worth.

Peter. Gwen. No - he shouldn't think about them. Captain Stacy. He tried his best not to think about him. About killing him. About regretting killing him. And most of all regretting how it felt. The killing. It had felt good, as if every inch of his being was made a little bit stronger by the blood drawn, while he knew it was not. He knew it only made the beast in him stronger, the beast he never wanted to be again, but was afraid of becoming anyway.

He felt so cold. That stirred his fear most of all. Humans weren't cold, humans were warm-blooded, as all mammals were. Lizards had cold blood running through their veins, and he could not forget thinking that he would never feel warm again, that he would always remain lizard, or at least for a part. And that one day, one day he would take over again. Because he was stronger than him, better. He had killed, he had maimed, he had hurt without caring. He could never do that. He would never be able to do that he would never be able to he -

No. Stop. Killing isn't strength. Not killing isn't weakness. Mercy isn't weakness. It's human. Hold on to it hold on hold _on_.

_No_, another voice in him screamed. _Weak. Weak. Like the rest of them. You could be so much more, so much better, but you would throw it all away. For what? _

"For Martha," he whispered, "for Billy."

The voice just laughed, and Curt Connors put his arms over his ears. He wanted to scream, but he knew it was to no avail. He couldn't silence the voices in his head, however much he wanted. It was in him, and it would never shut up for as long as he lived, or until it took over.

He felt alone. He was alone. He put his head against the wall and let the cold take over, calming him, humming him to sleep.

He shouldn't - he _wouldn't_.

But it was the only thing that helped, the only thing that could silence the voices. The only thing that could make him shut his eyes and go asleep, throwing him in an ocean of nightmares about what had happened and what was yet to come, starting the never-ending circle once more, darkness embracing him like the cold stone of his cell.


	3. Chapter 3

There were so many emotions, so many feelings, everything tickling him right under his eyes. He had always known that mammals were different from them, from the cold-blooded, but he had never realised just how different. He could find the strangest sorts of feelings is Connors' brain, feelings he never would think of having. He knew his regrets and his anger, his sadness and compassion, yet he did not feel it wholly, and he could not grasp the concept of it all. Of course, the first thing he found was his care for his offspring, staying strong even though it seemed to hate him. He did not understand. Nor did he understand how mammals could live with these weaknesses. How could they survive feeling all these things?

He remembered the little one. The Billy. He remembered his screams, the way he had begged for Connors. He thought Connors wanted to kill him. He could not describe the way it made him feel. He had never felt it before. The Spider had mentioned 'shame', but he did not know it. It was weakness.

All the things he could see. All the things had seen before, yet never really seen. It amazed him, and it scared him at the same time.

It was better in the sewer, when there were no great buildings, no other people around. His pets were there, but they didn't bother him too much. And if they would, he could always kill them. Devour them. Destroy them, like he had done with the little one.

_Billy, his name was Billy._ He felt the words inside, and he nearly spoke them out loud. No. The little one would not become his weakness, like it had been Connors'. Connors cared about the boy, he did not. He had killed him, like he had killed so many others, and he should not care. He should not feel this shame about it, and he most certainly did not want to get used to Connors' pathetic brain. He was stronger than he had ever been, and right about now he was held back. He must forget. Forget. Forget Connors. Forget his brain, his life. It was not his' anymore, and it did not matter. The weakness did not matter. Curt Connors was gone, and it was time for the cold-blooded one to reign.


	4. Chapter 4

He had tried so hard, but Billy hadn't even looked at him. He had said that he made him feel uncomfortable. He pushed a hand through his hair and sighed. This was never going to work out. He was never going to get Billy back. Things were never going to be like before.

Of course they weren't. He had destroyed all of that. He could hardly blame Billy for not trusting him, after all he had done. He didn't even fully trust himself, how could he expect his 13 year old son to trust him. To like him. It wasn't like he could ever be a good parent. It wasn't like he had anything to offer.

Yet it hurt. Even though he knew he deserved it, it hurt. Billy was the only thing on the earth he had left, the only reason he even wanted to live on this earth, and he had rejected him, and he didn't know if he would ever stop rejecting him. He had meant every word he said in that room. If it weren't for Billy, he would be so much worse off. Billy and Martha had been what kept him alive for all those years. Now Martha was gone, and he didn't have Billy anymore. How could he not fight for him? Fight for the only person he loved?

_But it makes no sssensse_, the voice whispered. _Offssspring doess not care. Let it go. _

No. He refused to let go. Refused to listen to the voice. If he would listen to the voice, everything would be lost, and he would never get Billy back.

The anger wouldn't go away. He didn't even know who he was angry at. He wouldn't allow himself to be angry at Billy. He was angry at himself, at the Lizard, at everything but Billy. He wanted to scream, and he could feel the rage filling his veins, trying to make its way to his throat, but he wouldn't allow it. He wouldn't allow his anger to control him, because he knew that as soon as he did, the Lizard would take over. As soon as he let his anger get the better of him, it would all be over. So he tried to calm himself down. He tried closing his eyes, he tried breathing in and out and in and out, but it just wouldn't work.

_Why would you, Connorsss? You have nothing left, no one wantss you. Why would you even care? _

He wanted to refute those words. To scream back at the voice and prove him how wrong he was, but he couldn't find the strength to do so. The voice was right, of course, as it had been so many times. It would be so much easier to give in, so much easier to -

No. He couldn't. He wouldn't. Billy -

_- doesss not care about you. _

Doesn't matter, I care. I am human and I care.

_Petty human, weak human_, the voice hissed, and he wished he could just make it stop, make him shut up.

He grabbed his coat and started searching. It had to be in there somewhere.

Rage. Nothing but rage. Filling his head, devouring his brain, blinding his eyes. Pain and rage were all that was left.

Billy.

Finally his hand found what it was searching for and he felt how it enclosed the serum. He could feel his consciousness fading, but he had to hold on. Just a little more.

Billy. Martha.

He held the needle to his arm. The voice inside him screamed, told him to stop, urged him to set him free. It screamed and screamed until he couldn't bear it anymore and pressed the needle into his arm. He swore that he could feel his blood warming. The voice died away a bit. It never really disappeared, but it was less present, and he liked it that way. He breathed in and out, slowly, this time succeeding in calming himself down.

He just had to be patient. With Billy. Not make any more mistakes, keep the Lizard in. He stood a chance. Billy was young. He had to be patient.

_But what if patience isn't enough? _

(**A/N**: I don't know what Billy's age is, but he was 13 somewhere in Sensational Spiderman so I'm just gonna roll with that)


End file.
